


December 29th - Cough Syrup

by shenala



Series: Stuckymas [29]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Jewish Bucky Barnes, M/M, Protective Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Steve and Bucky go on holiday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:47:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22015108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shenala/pseuds/shenala
Summary: The first thing Bucky thought as he drifted into wakefulness was that he had somehow mastered the magic of time travel in his sleep and transported himself back to 1938. Because that was the only reasonable explanation for why someone, namely Steve, was coughing up a lung while lying in bed beside him.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Stuckymas [29]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1558945
Comments: 5
Kudos: 65





	December 29th - Cough Syrup

The first thing Bucky thought as he drifted into wakefulness was that he had somehow mastered the magic of time travel in his sleep and transported himself back to 1938. Because  that was the only reasonable explanation for why someone, namely Steve, was coughing up a lung while lying in bed beside him. 

As it turned out, when Bucky blearily blinked open his eyes and took in his surroundings, it was  not 1939\. As evidenced by the fact that he was on the edge of the too-small-for-two-super-soldiers mattress and that there was a wall of heat plastered to his back. 

None of that, however, changed the fact that Steve  _ was _ coughing in a way he hadn't since his last bout of pneumonia, y'know before the whole "being a science experiment for the American government" thing. 

Flipping himself over as quickly as his confines allowed, Bucky had to take a moment to reassure himself that while Steve was spluttering and sniffling, he was still big. So he hadn't time travelled and Steve hadn't shrunk. That was good. What wasn't good was that Steve was clearly ill.

"Why are you ill?" he demanded with a scowl, patting Steve down as if searching for evidence of the cause of this mystery ailment. 

Steve smacked his hands away with a whine, "get off Buck. S'just a cold."

"You don't get colds" Bucky pointed out, each word sharp. 

Groaning, Steve pulled the pillow over his head to hide from his husband's glare, "maybe I'm only immune to American viruses."

"Well, let's hope Hydra doesn't find out. They'll be tryin' to feed you colcannon with a side of Spanish flu."

"Eh, it didn't get me when I was a baby. I'll be fine."

Bucky ran an exasperated hand down his face, "it wasn't a challenge Steven. C'mon sit up so I can look at ya."

With no small amount of muttering, the blonde did as he was told, rolling his eyes as Bucky checked his forehead for fever, poked his tongue with a pen and looked into his ears with the flashlight on his phone, "Oh joy, Nurse Barnes is back." 

Bucky flicked Steve on the end of the nose in retaliation with a rueful chuckle for that, "shut up punk. You'd've been dead without me."

"And I love you all the more for it" Steve replied solemnly, leaning forward to press a kiss to Bucky's cheek only to be intercepted by the cool metal of his left-hand. The brunet shook his head with a soft smile, "nuh-uh, no kissing until you ain't contagious pal. If we both get sick we're doomed."

And as much as Steve hated to admit it as he sulked against his pillows, Bucky did have a point there.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

After soothing Steve back to sleep with a slice of toast and a mug of honey & lemon tea (thank you home owners for having such a well-stocked cupboard), Bucky got dressed for the outdoors, although thankfully it wasn't raining, and started towards the village, remembering a shelf of medicine in one of the shops they'd visited the day before.

It wasn't until he stepped into the shop that he remembered that this was a Gaeltacht village, somewhere that is primarily Irish speaking. "Aw crap" Bucky muttered, hoping he could remember some of Steve's mutterings. 

The assortment of medications were laid out on the shelves behind the counter, making it clear that you had to ask for what you wanted, so he braced himself and smiled at the older lady in charge, "Hi, uh, fear céile  _ {husband}  _ , uh, tinn  _ {ill} _ ." Here Bucky coughed dramatically into his fist to try and get his point across.

The lady smiled at him, before patting the hand that he'd pressed against the counter, "Nice try dear, I've definitely heard a lot worse. But how about we try that again in English, so we don't end up poisoning your man?"

"Ah" Bucky blushed as he ducked his head in embarrassment, "sorry.. er, my husband has a cold, he's coughing a lot, but I don't.."

"You're not sure what's best? That's alright son, what kind of cough? Is it chesty, dry, or tickly?"

Bucky wrinkled his nose, "definitely chesty" his disgusted expression causing her to laugh gently.

"Well, you'll want this one for his cough" she placed a box in front of him, "and this will help the congestion" tapping a second box stating it was for colds and flu. "Make sure to read the dosage instructions carefully, and don't be surprised if he's a bit drowsy" she finished, telling him the cost. 

"Thank you" Bucky breathed gratefully as he headed for the door, "sorry again about the.." he gestured to indicate his attempts at the language earlier. The lady merely waved him away though, "don't be silly dear, it was good of you to try, most don't. Now get that back to your young man, he doesn't want to be laid up for the new year."

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

When Bucky got back to the house, Steve was still sleeping, looking like an angel but snoring like a chainsaw, so after checking the dosage instructions he decided it might be best to call Bruce.

_ >>"Hey Bruce, sorry to bother you, Steve has a cold. Yeah, I know, but he thinks it's only American bacteria he's immune too. Yes, I know that's not how it works, but he  does have a cold. I've got these meds, what dose does he need? Double it and he should be through it by tomorrow morning? Great, thanks Bruce." << _

Waking Steve up with a gentle shake, Bucky prompted the blonde to take the meds and finish off another cup of tea, offering up some more toast but Steve had grimaced at the thought of eating. 

Bucky leant back against the headboard, with Steve lying across his lap so that he could card his fingers through his husband's golden, if rather sweaty, hair. "I talked to Bruce" he murmured, knowing Steve would still be able to hear him, "he says it should be out of your system by tomorrow. And I made a fool out of myself in the store, trying to speak Gaelic." Despite Steve's laughter at Bucky's subsequent telling of his encounter turning into a cough, Bucky smiled as he stroked the blonde's back through the spluttering until it tapered off.

Casting his eyes around for something low-effort to keep them entertained for a while, Bucky's gaze caught upon the folder the priest had handed them yesterday and he reached across to snag it off the nightstand. 

Flicking through the contents, his heart stuttered when he came across a handful of black and white photos, clearly scans of originals but no less precious. "Look Stevie" he nudged his husband to sit up slightly so that he could see, "it's when your parents got married." Steve's eyes were wide and glistening with tears as he stroked a finger over the faces of his mother, father and grandparents, those tears falling unimpeded when he saw the other photos, one of his mother smiling softly at the camera, the other of his father, jaw set, chin raised." It was the latter that Bucky tapped, "guess now we know where you got that look from, Stevie." 

There weren't anymore photos, but the paperwork did tell them that Joseph Rogers had been employed as a sign painter before moving to the States and eventually, joining the Army, another similarity Bucky was quick to point out, squeezing Steve's shoulders as the blonde stared down at his family history. It also held enough details; names, dates, places, etc, that Steve knew he'd be able to have more success tracing his family tree when he returned home. For all the books and research that existed on Steve Rogers, Captain America, none of it expanded beyond "son of Joseph and Sarah Rogers" adding the dates of their deaths and nothing more. But with this, Steve would be able to find it himself.

When the drowsiness started to get the better of his husband, Bucky moved the folder and its priceless contents to safety, before gently easing Steve back into bed properly, wrapping him up tightly before smoothing the hair back from his forehead. 

Pressing a tender kiss to that slightly fevered brow, he was just about to leave for the kitchen, when Steve's fingers locked around his wrist.

Before he could ask what was wrong, Steve was mumbling against the pillow, "don't forget to light the candles." 

Chuckling softly, Bucky eased himself out of Steve's grasp, "we didn't bring the menorah Stevie."

"Packed a travel one" the blonde muttered in reply, "in my bag."

Knowing that he'd get nothing further out of his now-sleeping lover, Bucky thought he might as well see if he'd been right, unzipping Steve's bag and moving aside a few things, only to find, just as Steve had said, a travel menorah in a box at the bottom. 

Sending a warm smile at the snoozing figure under the blankets, Bucky headed out of the bedroom, box in hand, with a whispered "happy hanukkah Steve." 

**Author's Note:**

> shenala.tumblr.com


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